The blood moon scatters its crimson light across the battleground of the dead. Pain ricochets, violence converges, and despair shelters the screams of sorrow and agony, without a sign of peace or asylum in sight.
War shells rattled through the air as they eventually landed, exuding thunderous sounds and starlight, like a firework show depicting some great celebration. The only difference being that this show was accompanied by tens of monsters dying with every flash of light and crack of sound, as well as hundreds of humans dying for every dozen monsters killed.
A single voice, choked in anguish and misery, gently murmured. A figure clad in blood, human body tissue, and organs could be seen trying to form words in the midst of the trees and the sullen darkness of the forest.
"Blood."
"It's everywhere… It sickens me."
"All my comrades are dead. But I alone, the weakest and most useless member of my unit, am still alive."
"Why? Why does it always have to be this way? Why must I always lose all I hold dear? Why am I always too weak to defend myself and those who choose to surround me?"
These words resonated through Lloyd's mind as it fell into chaos
Lloyd had everything he loved taken away from him at the tender age of 13. And even now, seven years later, he had lost everything once again in only an hour.
Despair was a rather mundane word to describe Lloyd's feelings at the moment. He assumed the only thing fitting for someone like him to do was to die. After all, this wasn't the first time he had robbed people of their futures. Just like he did to his mother.
Ordinarily, unit 68 would be stationed in the backlines of combat, not the middle ring. That is, of course, if Lloyd didn't intervene.
His mind slowly drifted into a conversation he had with Colonel Ivan before deployment. While still at the cold base, he asked that his unit, unit 68, be deployed to the middle ring of the assault. Although reluctant at first, Colonel Ivan eventually agreed to his request.
Lloyd had always been more of a researcher than a fighter; hence, he wanted to get closer to the chaos to collect fresh samples of golden mercury from dead chimera. He had missed out on this opportunity many times before, but this time, given that his squad was stronger than ever, he thought it would be safe to venture into the middle ring.
Colt also supported this, as he assumed their squad was ready to take on greater threats.
Against creatures of the Umbralumen, experience was a very valuable asset. An asset that every member of squad 68 lacked, apart from Colt, that is.
Even Winter and Summer, members of house Blosberry, one of the more reputable god families, didn't have much experience, as they were seen as disappointments and cast out of their house.
Although Colt agreed, and Colonel Ivan greenlit the idea. Lloyd couldn't help but blame himself.
If not for his curiosity, perhaps everyone would still be alive.
After listening to the owl monster's declaration to kill Winter, whom Lloyd didn't even know if she was still alive or not, Lloyd understood the owl creature more.
Some people take delight in the suffering of others. The owl monster didn't only enjoy the suffering of humans, but bathed in the high that came with driving them into that suffering.
When Lloyd fought, his clothes were ripped off his body. But now, Lloyd was dressed in clothes the owl had probably taken off another person. Lloyd felt like he was being mocked as a disposable toy.
From the owl monster's perspective, Lloyd was just another one of his trophies.
His squadmates didn't die for the sake of their country. They died because a monstrous, kinky owl needed its regular fix.
Understanding this, Lloyd became filled with rage. The veins on his face flexed like they were about to burst, and his wrists became bloodied as he tried to break free of the chains that held him.
Lloyd pulled himself against the chains more and more as the rage consumed him further. Each time he pulled, the chains instinctively yanked him backward hard enough to drag his feet across the stone platform and peel off his skin like paper as his wrist went forward.
In response to this, the owl watched without moving. Its face, gently cackling at Lloyd's wretchedness.
He had no chance against a foe like the owl, but he would rather be damned to hell than stay put after that monster gave his comrades the death of dogs.
Every time Lloyd pulled away from the chains, the chains pulled him back, and blood spilled out of his wrists. Blinded by rage, Lloyd couldn't feel the pain and persistently pulled harder until he could hear his tendons and muscles tearing as more blood spilled, and his right hand was severed from his arm by the wrists.
Lloyd dropped forward, his body sagging as the chain went slack on his left side, his right arm reduced to a ruined end that pumped blood into the pit below.
As soon as Lloyd broke free of the first chain, a surge of pain from his severed wrists to his brain prompted him to stop and kneel on the stone platform in the pit, further submerging his body in blood.
But in Lloyd's mind, this pain was nothing compared to the deaths of the fallen.
The moment he lost his right hand, the owl man's laughter increased in magnitude, with slight signs of jubilation visible on its sadistic face.
Almost as instantly as Lloyd fell, he got up once again and pulled away from the second chain. Every time he did, the chain replied with a grinding pull that bit deeper into his left hand.
This time, almost overcome with pain, Lloyd pulled, but not as strongly as before due to blood loss. Even worse, the blood that he was submerged in left a thick and sour stench that clung to the back of his throat.
Being both nauseated and in extreme pain, Lloyd halted his escape attempt as he tried to steady his mind. His body was slowly given up on him.
After pausing for a few seconds, he let out a violent roar and pulled against the chains once again.
As someone experienced in human physiology, he knew that he would meet his end from blood loss in a matter of minutes. If he didn't get out now, he wouldn't be leaving that pit.
Lloyd pulled again and again and again, each attempt driving the damage deeper. The tearing sensation spread through his nerves faster this time. Soon, his muscles and tendons ripped, releasing his hand from his arm with one last pull.
"Splash." With the momentum he built up from the last pull, Lloyd fell into the pit of blood, gargling and drowning in its depths.
For a few moments, the world went silent. Lloyd was exhausted, and the owl seemed to lose interest as he assumed that was Lloyd's final struggle.
"Is that the furthest your rage can carry you? You disappoint me, Lloyd."
Lloyd was submerged in clotting blood and organs. He could barely hear what the owl man said, but he could tell that it was taunting him once again.
And just like that, Lloyd obtained yet another rage boost. His body jerked, and his arms, reduced to jagged ends of bone and shredded tissue, drove forward into the wall of the pit.
Lloyd shouted in his mind. "Pain be damned. I'm going to kill this bastard."
He opened his eyes and then his mouth to grab a jagged piece of bone from the pit. Then, his arm bones pierced into the walls of the pit as he slowly dragged himself upward. Luckily, it had just rained, so the pit was moist from both the rain and the blood.
Plunge after plunge, he slowly made his way up to the surface and pulled himself up with the stumps he had as hands.
Lloyd stood before the owl monster like he was a monster himself. Both of his hands were ripped off, and he had only a spiky piece of bone in his mouth to defend himself.
Although in this sorry state, he wasn't going to run. He was determined to kill the monster even though he knew it would be impossible.
Seeing Lloyd's determined face, the owl monster's face coiled in ecstasy. He had assumed he would have to kill Winter in front of Lloyd for him to show the rage-filled side of humans, but he was mistaken. Merely mentioning the prospect of killing her awakened Lloyd's human hatred.
"Of all the ways to make a soul fester, I find bringing them out of despair just to plunge them back into it is the most enjoyable."
"I commend you, boy. Your rage will serve as my meal. Consider yourself worthy of being consumed by one of the seven."